


Greed and Charity:  A Love Story of Sorts

by tambrathegreat



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Challenge Response, F/M, Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tambrathegreat/pseuds/tambrathegreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tonks has klutzed her way through yet another break-up.  She's looking for a new man to fit the bill of booty-call.  Percy Weasley is looking to unburden himself of his virginity.  It's a match made in challenge heaven.  Rated for body-parts descriptions and an embarassing moment.  It could happen to anyone, I swear!</p>
<p>No Weasleys were harmed in the writing of this story. This story was written for Pittwitch's Seven Deadly Sins Challenge on Adultfanfiction.  The challenge was to write about a deadly sin using Harry Potter characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greed and Charity:  A Love Story of Sorts

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jilliane for her red-mousing of this story.
> 
> The usual disclaimers apply.

_June, 1994_

Oh yes, he noticed her. He always did as he went to lunch. He was unfortunate enough to have the same lunch hour as her and they always passed in the food court, her tray laden with hearty fare, his with salads and baked fish or chicken, no spices. Sensible, staid, boring, that was Percy Weasley.

He let his eyes follow her to her seat next to that odious Moody, with his all seeing magical eye and swinging gait. The man was retired for heaven's sake, and his looks put people off their lunch. She was there with her wild, bubble-gum pink hair, outrageously tight tee, pink combat boots, and tantalisingly short skirt all under the open Auror's robes. The skirt was plaid and it matched her hair. She jiggled her leg restlessly, the light catching the pale hairs high up on her exposed thigh, making them glisten. He wondered if her other, private hair was pink and wild, and if so, did it sparkle when it was hit by the light. Did it glisten invitingly when it was wet from her own arousal or a lover's spending?

Not that he had much more than academic experience with that bit of a woman's anatomy, he thought with a grimace. He'd tried to look at Penelope's, but she had turned him down flatly saying that if he wanted that kind of girl, he may as well go to Knockturn Alley. She had then announced that she was finished with him. In misery at the thought, Percy turned his attention to his butterless meal, with no sauces, no unnecessary salt, and definitely no flavour. He glanced back up to see the Auror waving a fork in the air, to punctuate a joke no doubt, nearly splattering the older Auror with a bit of mash. The ugly man merely flicked his wand and the mash disappeared from the dangerously waving tines. He grimaced, his version of a smile. She smiled brightly in return. Percy had lost his appetite. He pushed the tray to the middle of the table. Who was he, a minor cog in the wheel of the Ministry, the middle son of an undistinguished minion, to desire the young Auror? He didn't even know her name.

He rose after patting his lips precisely, storing away the image of the bright girl, with her glowing smile and day-glo hair, for later. When he got home, he would replay the scene and add his own twists, whilst he considered fisting himself off in the shower. He was a miser when it came to pleasure, and would hold out until he was starving for even his own caresses. It made the process less desperate, lonely, and pathetic. Maybe in a week, after storing away the images that the pink-haired Auror unknowingly provided him, he would have a good session with himself. He could be patient.

&*&*&

Nymphadora Tonks, also known as Dora to her family, and Tonks to the world in general, clambered through her day, blissfully unaware of the heated regard of one Percival Ignatius Weasley, son of Arthur Weasley, Order Member, and minor functionary.

She despaired of getting shagged anytime soon. It had been months since she and her latest partner had broken it off. It was truly surprising what damage an unguarded elbow to the nose during foreplay could do to end a relationship. Reg had been good for a quick shag, and was an all right bloke, but his bits had been more veg than meat. Tonks was going to break it off with him the weekend she broke his nose, but fate and her clumsiness had taken care of the problem before she had to give the old, "It's not you, it's me" speech.

This time, it really had been her.

Not that Tonks couldn't crook her finger and get any number of the blokes that worked in Magical Games to come running, the old pervs, but she really wanted more from it than a wham, bam, and a case of the clap or worse. She was looking for a partner of sorts, a shag buddy that would give her what she needed, get his own, and be content with that. She needed someone who wasn't on the fast track to knocking her up and demanding she battle nappies instead of fighting dark wizards, someone who would be grateful for the pussy she threw him.

She needed... a _virgin._

She snorted to herself as the lift filled up with the office workers on her same shift. A witch with a pointed hat and an equally pointed nose sniffed and scooted away from the Auror. Tonks said, "Wotcher!" brightly to her just to see the woman's expression sour.

She returned her attention to the problem at hand, no wordplay intended. The most likely place to find a virgin would be at Hogwarts, and therefore not the place to troll, since she wasn't into children, and she valued her life more than a shag was worth if she approached that bloody monk, Snape, about having a go. The next most likely candidate would be her cousin, Sirius, and she really didn't fancy broaching that topic of conversation, no matter how desperate he might be after his own long, dry spell. That bloke Remus was too serious for her needs, and too sweet. He was definitely marriage material, not the quick tumble type. Besides, both of them were too damaged, Sirius and Remus. She couldn't hurt them like that. She sighed, realising that she might just have to go through a long, dry spell of her own.

A prissy male voice said from behind, "Excuse me, Auror."

Tonks moved aside for a red-haired male, youngish, with glasses and a rather large stick up his arse by the way he walked and spoke. If she could read people at all, she knew that pparticular ginger hadn't been shagged yet. He stepped past her, pulling his robes aside, careful not to touch her. If he hadn't lingered a little on her tits and then coloured slightly when he did, she would have thought he was a poof. She saw his badge hanging around his neck. The tag said, Weasley, P., Department of International Magical Cooperation.

Hmm... her dry spell may not be so long and arid after all, she thought. Besides, she smirked, she'd be doing the bloke a favour.

&*&*&

Percy couldn't believe his bad luck when he found out about the interdepartmental trade-week implemented by Mr. Bartemius Crouch, the head of his department, with that of the Aurory, so that each might learn to appreciate the others contribution to the safety of the wizarding world. Percy was the last to be called into the great man's office, and he quaked a little, wondering if he would be paired with one of the dashing blokes who would only make him feel inferior, or if he would be placed with one of the old codgers; those too old to do more than desk duty, and who told bloody long stories about the old days. Either option was distasteful to Percy. He wished to distinguish himself, and would do this little bit of torture with a happy face, but he knew nothing good could come of it for him. He would end up looking like a right git, just as he did when he came home every night. The regulation of cauldron thickness just wasn't sexy enough for most people.

With that particular thought, his mind traitorously suggested that he might be paired with the pink-haired Auror, with those delicious... He abruptly cut off the image that rose. He would never get so lucky. He was a Weasley, after all.  
He sat when Mr. Crouch bade him to, and waited, his hands stiffly curved into balls at his sides. "I see here, Weatherby, that you are the youngest in the department. The head of the Auror Office thought it prudent to put you with one of their youngest Aurors."

looked at him severely from under his heavy grey eyebrows. Percy smiled wanly, hoping to get this interview over so that he could spend his weekend in despair and, of course, in his scheduled wanking during his bath. Mr. Crouch handed him a piece of parchment with a name scrawled on it. Percy looked at it blindly, then placed it in his robe pocket as he said, "Thank you, Sir, for your consideration."

"You're a fine example of dedication, Weatherington." Mr. Crouch smiled, one that made Percy's heart skip a beat. The smile he bestowed was the one that said that, even though the man couldn't remember his name, his hard work was noticed. Mr. Crouch turned back to the papers on his desk. "I'm sure you'll do just fine, even though Auror Tonks has a bit of a reputation."

Percy returned to his desk, half in floating ecstasy and half in deep-rooted despair. It was a lurching, shambling kind of feeling. He was given the job of handling an Auror with a difficult reputation. He was on his way. If he could make the Auror behave, that was.

&*&*&

It paid being friends with the most powerful Auror in the department, aside from the Head of the MLE, of course. Tonks had manoeuvred her departmental trade assignment with a finesse that would have made her Slytherin relatives proud. Kingsley had only given her a little glare from under his brows as she requested her assignment. "Be careful, Tonks. That's Arthur and Molly's son."

"With the last name 'Weasley'? I never would have guessed." Tonks stood from her chair across from Kingsley, wishing not for the first time, that he wasn't involved so heavily in Albus' machinations. He would have made a great shag buddy. "Ta, Kinglsey. I'll be on my best behaviour."

"That's what I'm worried about," Kingsley muttered as he turned back to his work. "See that you don't break him, please."

Tonks laughed and turned to the door, her feet tangling as she walked through it. She caught herself, but just barely.

She rarely looked forward to Mondays, but she knew that this coming workday was going to be the beginning of the end of her sexual aridity. She wondered idly, as she swung her bag over her back, if Weasley were as staid as he appeared. In her experience, which was by no means vast, but widely varied, it was the little milquetoasts that had the most kink where it mattered. She rubbed her hands together as she approached the lift. She had some plans to make before Monday. Battle tactics had always been her _forte._

&*&*&

"Wotcher." With that one word, along with the slim pale hand extended toward him, Percy found out that miracles did happen even to him. The pink-haired Auror with the glistening thighs was sitting across from him in his little office cubby, smiling. She pushed her hand forward, "M'names Tonks. We'll be working together this week."

Percy stood, thankful that he had done his duty by his body that weekend, and that he was only mildly aroused by the thought of working with this roseate goddess. "Percival Weasley."

She gave his hand a soft squeeze, a calculating look crossing her features before saying, "Yeah, I know your dad. Arthur, right?"

Percy did not let his wince show as she spoke his father's name. Damn. Of course his family baggage would follow him. There was no escaping the Weasley red or the Weasley name. "Yes. Quite. I suppose I should take you on a tour of the department and then let you see what we'll be doing."

"Yeah." She rose and stumbled against the desk, scattering a neatly stacked pile of parchment. Percy showed his wince that time. It had taken him a week to cross reference and collate that particular stack, not only by cauldron manufacturer, but also by materials used. "Sorry, 'm dead clumsy. Almost didn't pass the stealth portion of training."

Her red tinged cheeks and shaking voice stopped Percy from saying anything sharp to her. Instead he bent and began picking up the papers, carefully placing them where they most likely belonged. Auror Tonks had grabbed handfuls of the dossiers and was wadding them into a parchment shaped pile. Percy blinked behind his glasses, trying to dispel his rapidly growing irritation. She smiled at him, the expression sickly. "I'll just let you do it."

"Thank you, Auror Tonks," he answered with his own sickly smile. "Perhaps..."

His eyes widened as she sat back in the chair she had vacated and opened her legs slightly. He could just see the bright printing on her knickers that spelled out ' _Monday's witch is..._ " the rest of the saying obscured by her sleek inner thigh. Percy's mouth worked open and closed. It was dry and hot in the room, arid. He caught a whiff of her scent, a womanly mixture of musk and spice, that set his mouth watering. He heard a moan and realised it came from him. He tucked his head in embarrassment, hoping the Auror's attention had been elsewhere.

Once he gathered the files, he placed them on his desk, trying to think about anything but the bright knickers and warm-toned thigh. He turned his back to her, thinking of Professor Snape in his nightshirt, all knobbly knees and hairy feet, or Professor McGonagall in a see-through teddy, sagging dugs and pouched gut... anything to keep the throbbing rush of blood from pooling in his cock.

He heard the Auror stand and felt her brush against him in the small office. She said into his ear as she pressed her body into his, "Shouldn't we be touring something?"

She punctuated the question with a flick of her pink tongue to the shell of his ear.

_Bloody buggering hell._

Percy, staid middle brother to more exciting siblings, the one on the career fast-track of the Ministry, with his dissertations on cauldrons and non-sexy subjects, the Head-boy, apple of his mother's eye, that Percy, turned to Auror Tonks and grabbed her roughly. He pulled her to him with a kiss that seemed to scorch the air around them. He felt Tonks wave her wand and with a sharp crack, the door to his cubby closed, the windows fogged and heavy wards were thrown up. 

Percy swept the gathered files off his desk and pushed the Auror onto it, spreading her thighs as he loosened his robes with frantic fingers. She looked at him saucily as she pulled her knickers to the side and then...

It was all over. Percy came with a gushing sob as he looked down on her pink haired mons, the bush shaved into the shape of a heart. The hair did glisten when it was wet.

_Damn._

Percy turned away from her, completely mortified by his lack of control. He tucked his cock back into it's tight little place after casting a cleansing charm, his face stinging with shame.

He heard a muffled oath and then felt the Auror's arms go about him. "I think that was the sweetest reaction I've ever had to my bits being exposed."

_Sweet. Adorable. Cuddly. Cute._ Not very manly adjectives. Percy would take what he could get though. He hoped she would be willing to have another go.

Auror Tonks smoothed her hand up his chest, her face pressed against his back. "Let's skive off today, go to my flat and get things right."'

Percy nodded, feeling that wild bit of Weasley blood that he carefully chained down in the dungeon of his soul most of the time, rise up in him. He took her hand. "I can do much better than I did... I think."

With those words, Tonks gave an inner, fist-pumping, triumphant, "YES!"

They walked out of the department, went up to the ground level and flooed away.

They arrived at her flat, Percy first then her. She stumbled and he caught her, his scrawny muscles surprisingly toned. He stepped away from her, his gaze down, his heart racing. He needed to think rationally. He needed his job, needed to prove himself. He no longer wanted to be a faceless Weasley. He couldn't skive off, no matter how enticing the situation might be. "I-I think this was a mistake, Auror Tonks..."

Tonks began stripping, her robes hit the floor followed closely by her outrageous tee of the day. She stood before him in a lacy black bra and a frilled miniskirt that swirled around her strong thighs like mist and water. She approached him, drawing his hands up with hers.

"N-no, really, Auror Tonks..." Percy began again, giving her the slip, skirting a pouf to give him some distance. He needed oxygen to his brain. He needed to think rationally, he needed... to become the perfect Ministry employee so that he might distinguish himself. She slipped the bra straps from her shoulders. Gods, he needed her.

"I'm going to shag that stick right out of your arse!" she exclaimed as she prowled toward him. He retreated, successfully dodging a tatty chair, only to stumble over a bump in the floor. "And, it's just Tonks."

Percy became alarmed, wondering if she were talking about some sexual technique he had not read about in his studious research St. Mungo's library: The Forbidden Section, the one that only adult wizards of a respectable age and married state could normally access. He felt his back hit the wall of the tiny parlour, bringing his escape to a halt, as she reached him. She trod on his toe as she dragged him to her. As soon as their lips met, Percy felt fire lick at his belly and then lower down.

Her skin was hot and his hands couldn't get enough of how silky it was. He rubbed her arms, catching his finger on an errant strap, and he dragged it down. He broke the kiss, feeling the heat in his face as he looked down. Her pebbled nipple lay against his robes, pearly and pink, tight. He lowered his head, only half acknowledging that this was as far as he had ever gotten with Penelope. Tonks tasted sweet and salty as he stroked her nipple with his tongue. He was vaguely aware of her hands dragging his robes open and then being moved to a seat on a futon. She knelt before him as she unbuckled and unbuttoned him with deft, sure fingers. No clumsiness was apparent as she eased him out of his y-fronts. Damn. He had to wear boyish smalls today, didn't he? He doubted Bill, Charlie , or even the twins would be caught in y-fronts with a willing witch.

She raised her eyes, which had gone from a scintillating green to flat grey. Her pointed tongue swiped the weeping head of his penis and he shuddered. She said, "You're a virgin."

Not a question, just a fact. Percy could only nod as she whipped the flat of her tongue across his head again, as if she were lapping at a scoop of ice cream. Percy doubted any ice cream had ever felt so good being eaten. She bobbed her head, darting the nimble muscle down his shaft, neatly taking him in her throat in a gobbling kind of greed. Percy was in shock, heavenly shock, but shock nonetheless. He had never come across this in his forbidden reading. Not even in his father's stash of blue novels, hidden in the shed where he tinkered on his Muggle artifacts. He felt his balls tighten and his cock become diamond hard as she plied her tongue on him. He didn't know what the etiquette was, so he balled his fists beside him instead of taking handfuls of her hair and thrusting into her waiting gullet. She pulled off with a pop and doffed her skirt, revealing the knickers that had so intrigued Percy before. He read the full saying aloud, "Monday's witch is full of... _you._ "

Shite, if his cock hadn't been ready to cut steel before, that little message would have done it. He pulled frantically at his tie with one hand while attempting to unbutton his shirt with the other. Tonks just pulled the shirt apart, slinging buttons across the room, their clattering descent only registering nominally with Percy.

She straddled him, the thin scrap of cotton between her legs abrading his cock in an almost painful manner. She hooked her fingers around around the ear pieces of his glasses and eased them off his face before kissing him. He surged upwards, humping with abandon against the moistened fabric. The action elicited a moan from her. Percy grabbed her by the hips and pulled her tighter. She would probably have Weasley-fingered bruise shapes on her tomorrow, but fuck all if he cared at the moment. Without breaking from the kiss, she slid a finger to her knickers and flicked them aside. His cock was bathed in her juices. She paused long enough to take his length in her fist and guide him to her opening.

Percy thought he might black out as he breached her. She was so hot, tight, and moist. He stiffened, trying to get control of his reaction. She stilled and then asked after a moment, "Are you okay now?"

"Ye-es... Oh gods, yessss." Percy, if he had had control of his faculties, would have rolled his eyes at his inarticulate utterances. As it was, he thought he would add to his verbal brilliance with, "Ungh..."

She set a punishing rhythm as she rode him. When he felt his face contort in that expression he got just before he came, she stopped, her breasts heaving. Percy could do with heaving breasts, especially ones that were in his face when they were doing so. She looked down at him, her grey eyes now pulsing to reddish orange, her hair lengthening and darkening. Percy watched in fascination as she changed before his eyes. He dimly remembered something from his school days about Metamorphmagi... and then she moved, clamping her muscles as she drew forward, pulling on his cock as if it were covered by a tight fist.

She smiled, that wicked lazy one that Percy had seen only once on a woman's face. He had experienced it when he had walked in on Bill and his girl during their family's trip to Egypt. Bill never knew that Percy had entered, had stood transfixed as the woman rode his brother wearing that wicked expression as she gazed at her lover's younger brother. It had fuelled Percy's fantasies for years, just as this new smile would do.

Percy bucked against her as he strove to meet her pulling thrusts. He watched in fascination as she took his rough treatment, loved the sound of her squealing as he fucked her. He pushed her harder, jouncing her on his cock with the force of his thrusts. With a final keening wail, she came, pulsing around him, pulling his spunk out of him with greedy, sucking motions.

When they were done, and Tonks lay sprawled on the seat beside him, he said with a goofy, lop-sided smile and an already stiffening cock, "Can we have another go?"

Tonks groaned. Who knew that a charity case would be so satisfyingly greedy?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


End file.
